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Every hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood on end. His eyes scanned every face in the ever-growing crowd, memorizing every minute detail, looking for hostility. So far he’d only found barely concealed disdain, disapproval, annoyance, and even more thinly concealed attractions and lusts, people ready to throw away all sense of propriety under the guise of drunkenness. Every single thing was exactly as he remembered it, exactly what was expected of an Avengers party. His new team had taken months to convince him to come tonight, he hadn’t been to a party since before he’d become a fugitive back in 2016, nearly ten years ago now. Steve groaned at the unwelcome realization at the ever-persistent passage of time and knocked back the rest of his scotch.
Glass empty, he slid out of the shadows and made his way back to the bar. The glass clicked down and he signaled the bartender for another. There wasn’t much of a point to drinking regular alcohol, but it was a comforting habit at this point, and a drink in hand could quickly become an excuse not to answer someone’s ridiculous questions. While he waited, he turned partially towards the main floor, his eyes continuing to scan the crowd.
Loud laughter burst from the middle of the dance floor. There, taking up room and clearly having the most fun of anyone at the party, was Peter. Steve smiled what was probably the first genuine smile of the night. Peter was one of Steve’s new teammates - well, new but not. After the big fight with Thanos, bringing everyone back from the snap, Steve was fully pardoned and brought back to the Avengers, now under the supervision of an International Committee chaired by the Wakandans. Steve, now known publicly as Nomad, was stationed in New York. He served as the commander of the American division, Peter Parker as Spider-man had been brought in almost immediately as his right hand. Right after the American government made partnering with the new Captain America part of the terms for Sergeant Barnes’ pardon.
If Steve was being honest, he was glad Sam would have someone as solid as Bucky by his side. But damn if he didn’t miss his friends. And fuck if it wasn’t that much harder being home, when it wasn’t really home anymore, rebuilding his team without any of the people who made him feel like himself. The family he had found after he woke up was almost all gone. Tony was dead. Sam was in DC, and now so was Bucky. It wasn’t far, but it was more than a day trip, that’s for sure. Natasha was dead. Clint was falling apart. Thor was busy with Loki and Valkyrie, Bruce tied to their sides for the foreseeable future. Vision was dead. Steve would be damned if anyone tried to pull Wanda back into this shit show.
Peter had been a ray of sunshine for the past two years, and he had practically dragged Steve back to the land of the living, kicking and screaming and clawing the whole way. Steve still remembered when Fury first brought Peter into the compound.
-------------------------------------------- Year 2022 ----------------------------------------------------
“Rogers,” Fury appeared out of nowhere, but Steve was used to him showing up late for meetings and making his mysterious entrances, “They’ve chosen a second-in-command for you.”
“Don’t need one. I can run the team just fine.”
“Aw come on, Cap. And I was so excited to work with you.” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when the fully suited Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling. He hadn’t meant to swing on the younger member, but instincts kicked in. The look on his face when Spidey caught his fist must have been priceless, “Ah memories. Last time a super-soldier took a swing at me, he had a wicked cool metal arm, but since it’s you, I’m still honored.”
“Where the fuck-” Steve cursed under his breath before standing down and apologizing awkwardly.
“It’s all good. I’m kind of used to people hitting first, asking questions later. Comes with the territory. But it’s great to see you again, y’know, now that we’re on the same side. No hard feelings, right?”
Steve had almost smiled then, “No hard feelings.”
Fury slipped out of the conversation, disappearing just as quickly as he had arrived. Resigned to his new partner, Steve started showing him around the compound. Arriving back at the team’s residential sector, Steve led him to the apartment right next door to his own, “This is the apartment designated for the second in command. Mine is the one right next door. The rest of the team is on the other side of the common area. If you want to keep your identity confidential, that’s fine, but it’s really not necessary.”
“Bro! I completely forgot I was even wearing this. But I figured I should cause if I showed up without it you’d’ve been like, ‘yo who is this random guy??’ and that would’ve just been awkward,” He peel the mask off, and ran his fingers through his hair, not really trying to fix what he had assumed was a lost cause, “My name is Peter, by the way. Peter Parker. I don’t really want people knowing who I am outside of work though. I hope that won't be a problem.”
Steve let out a genuine laugh at that, “Not a problem at all.”
A comfortable silence settled between them while Steve let Peter set up his secure entry keys to his apartment. Furniture had already been brought in that was wildly different from the standard furnishings, so Steve guessed that this had been decided long before Fury had come in. Steve sat on the couch while Peter inspected the rest of the apartment.
“Ay yo,” Peter called from the other room, “I’m gonna get out of this suit, that alright with you?”
“Take your time.”
Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Peter coming out with gray sweats hanging low on his hips, showing a hint of his boxers before his black spiderman tank top was pulled all the way on, was not it. Steve’s eyes lingered a little too long on the younger man’s slight frame, the soft curve of his hip, that little V dipping down into- Steve shoved those thoughts away, kicking himself, “So um… for some reason I thought you were shorter the last time we met..or fought.”
Peter laughed and draped himself over the armchair, “Well I was like… Fifteen? Something like that, so yeah, I hope I’m taller now.”
Steve practically choked on air, “I’m sorry, you were what?”
Peter blinked, “Okay, so I was fourteen but it was like a month or two before my birthday so I just rounded-”
“Tony brought a literal child… to fight a bunch of super-powered fugitives… one of which was a whole assassin…”
Peter blushed and Steve groaned, a sound that Peter misinterpreted for disapproval aimed at the younger man instead of Steve’s own unruly thoughts, “Okay, I know it sounds bad but-”
“Jesus, how old are you? Did they pull you fresh out of school?”
Peter blushed even darker and looked away, mumbling under his breath, “I um... Graduate in like a month or two, it’s-totally-not-a-big-deal, it just got thrown off by, y’know, the snap and then people coming back and I’m twenty-two now and that’s definitely old enough considering I’ve been fighting crime for like a decade, it’s fine, it’s fine!”
Steve ran a hand down his face, thinking to himself, ‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it is so not fine.’
------------------------------------------------- Present Day ---------------------------------------------------
That had been two, almost three years ago now. He’d gone to Peter’s graduation, meeting his Aunt May, who immediately adopted him. They had fought side by side flawlessly, patched each other up countless times. Peter had picked Steve up off the floor from plenty of nightmares. Steve had picked Peter up from a few too many drinks after shitty dates. Now Steve watched him dancing with the other team members, the techs, the analysts. Steve picked up his now full glass and took a sip, making direct eye contact with Peter.
Peter made a beeline for the older man, “Steeeeeve!”
Steve smirked, taking another slow drink. Peter sidled up next to him, wiggling invitingly, “Come dance, Steve! Get a little bit of that voulez-vous coucher avec moi action.”
Steve almost choked on his drink, “I don’t think you know what you’re asking.” Steve fought back against the part of his brain that flashed up images of his hand wrapped around Peter’s neck, the younger man’s tight ass pressed up against his dick, rocking back and forth, the little noises Peter would make when Steve teased him. He shifted uncomfortably, willing away his own growing arousal.
“Funny,” Peter grinned, one hand settling on Steve’s chest, “I don’t remember asking.” Peter closed his hand around Steve’s tie and gave it a yank. To anyone watching, it looked like Steve was being a good sport, indulging a younger coworker, especially to those who didn’t recognize Peter without the mask. But truth be told, Peter was easily much stronger than Steve and was holding back considerably to avoid strangling the supersoldier with his own tie. They danced gleefully for a few songs before the DJ switched up the mood.
Peter turned to Steve excitedly, “I fucking love this song!” When the beat dropped, so did the main lights, the flickering LEDs bumping along in a light show that probably would have set off every light-sensitive epileptic on the block - if the compound wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. The crowd on the dance floor squeezed impossibly tighter. Seeing the guard walls going back up in the older Avenger’s mind, Peter swooped in to save the day. He moved closer, forcing people to give more space.
“Stay with me,” Peter said just loud enough for Steve to hear, “Don’t think about them, just stay right here with me.” Steve nodded. Focusing on how close Peter was pressed to him was like willfully walking into temptation, but it was better than the hypervigilance. His eyes raked over Peter’s slender frame, intoxicated by the roll of his hips. Peter’s arms came to rest on Steve’s shoulders, his body rolling closer, his crotch brushing too quickly against Steve’s thighs. He couldn’t tell if it was the music or the movement, but Steve was quickly losing the battle. The smile that split Peter’s face as Steve let go, following his lead, was completely worth it. Steve brought his hands up, running his fingers down Peter’s arms, their faces so close that Steve could see Peter’s pupils dilating. His hands continued past the younger man’s shoulders, down to his waist.
Peter whipped around when Steve’s large hands reached his waist, his own hands settling on top for but a moment to stop Steve from withdrawing. Peter leaned his head back against Steve’s shoulder, watching his reaction when Peter ground his ass back against Steve’s crotch. Even with enhanced hearing, Peter almost missed the groan that escaped Steve’s mouth. Instead, he took it as an encouraging sign, especially when Steve stepped closer, grinding back, his grip tightening on Peter’s hips.
Steve, in his right mind, would have worried about Peter feeling the press of his hardening cock, but Steve wasn’t in his right mind, he was completely lost in the electric feeling of Peter’s body writhing against his. Peter, for his part, was convinced his mind was playing tricks on him, but that certainly would not steal his chance to rub up against Steve Rogers.
Not long after that, the two escaped the dance floor, breathing heavily and filled with laughter. They slipped easily out of the party and into the elevator lobby, a set of doors opening as soon as they’d hit the button.
“See, it was fun. You had fun,” Peter commented, “I told you you just needed some of that voulez-vous-”
Steve cut him off with a laugh, “Why do you keep saying that?”
“It’s a song, y’know, Lady Marmalade? From that old movie Moulin Rouge? Y’know,” He started singing as the doors opened to their empty residential pod, swaying his hips, “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec-”
Steve gripped Peter’s hips, spinning him around and pressing his back against the wall between their two apartments. His larger body crowded into Peter’s space, his voice soft and dark when he spoke lowly, “If you ask me to sleep with you one more time, I’m gonna call your bluff.”
Peter’s mouth was suddenly dry, the heat rising to his face, “I um… So that's what that means?”
Steve nodded, watching the way Peter squirmed, carefully looking for any sign that this wasn’t what Peter wanted, “Ou c'est ce que tu veux? Tu veux que je te baise?” Or is this what you want? Do you want me to fuck you?
Peter swallowed heavily, “I don’t know what you just said but, yes, please.”
Steve smirked, sliding his leg between Peter’s thighs, his hands on the younger man’s hips, encouraging him to rub against Steve’s thick thigh, “Tellement poli, so polite. Seras-tu si gentille quand tu me supplieras de te détruire?” Will you be so sweet when you beg me to wreck you? He treasured the little whimpers that escaped Peter’s mouth as he rolled his hips. His head hung back, leaving his slender neck open for Steve to kiss, bite, and suck, stubbornly marking the boy.
“S-Steve…” Peter gasped, “If we’re gonna…. Fuck me… we should ung- we should go to my room. Your room. Fuck, someone’s room.” Steve chuckled and released the younger man, letting Peter open up his apartment, quickly following him inside, firmly shutting the door behind them.
Steve stood just inside the doorway, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it onto the nearest surface before nudging off his shoes. On the other hand was Peter, moving towards his room as he shed jacket and shoes, his hands paused midway through undoing his bowtie, “You comin’ in?” Large hands carefully rolled up white sleeves, Steve slowly moved closer, his eyes never leaving Peter. When he reached the younger man, he gripped Peter’s belt, pulling him forward so their lips faces were inches away from one another. With his other hand, Steve slowly and painstakingly unbuttoned Peter’s waistcoat.
Peter’s mind went completely blank. He absentmindedly wet his lips, his hands abandoning his bowtie and coming to rest on Steve’s shoulders. He couldn’t look away, caught by Steve’s intense blue gaze. The last button open, Steve continued up, his fingers slid up to finish removing Peter’s tie. The little yanks moved Peter closer and he took the opportunity, pressing his mouth to Steve’s, kissing him with every ounce of raw need in him. Steve groaned against his lips. His hands traveled back down, gripping Peter’s ass and lifting him up, letting the younger man wrap his legs around his waist.
Not long after, Steve was pressing Peter down against the bed. Steve kept him right on the edge of the bed, rolling his hips so that Peter could feel just how badly Steve wanted this. Small whimpers filled the otherwise quiet room. Releasing Peter’s hips, Steve started unbuttoning the younger man’s shirt, slowly working his way down. As his hands went down, so did his mouth, trailing kisses along Peter’s jaw, down his neck, nipping and sucking. Finally, Steve reached Peter’s belt, quickly undoing it with one hand. Steve smirked against Peter’s neck, his fingers had just grazed Peter’s sensitive cock when he had opened his bands and finished off the last few shirt buttons.
“Steve-” Peter whined, “Please…”
“Vous vous impatientez? Moi aussi,” Are you getting impatient? Me too, Steve leaned back, taking in the glazed look in Peter’s eyes and the little red marks he had left down Peter’s neck. Steve reached down, gripping the neck of Peter’s undershirt with both hands and yanked, tearing the fabric clear down the middle.
“Fuck-” Peter didn’t think he could get more turned on, but that certainly did it.
Steve slid a hand under Peter’s back, pressing gently, lifting him just enough to help him out of the layers of clothing. Waistcoat, button-up, and undershirt discarded in a pile on the floor. Peter squeaked as Steve unceremoniously yanked Peter’s pants down and off, dropping him back onto the bed.
Satisfied, Steve’s mouth returned to Peter’s skin, this time teasing one of his nipples. He savored every cute little moan and whimper, the way his name sounded on Peter’s lips, the way Peter rocked his hips up, begging for contact. Finally, Steve took mercy on the boy, palming his cock through his underwear.
“Ung Steve… touch me,”
Steve chuckled darkly, “Aw, baby, I am touching you.” He loved the way Peter pouted, but slid his hand inside his underwear anyways, earning himself the most delicious little gasp.
When they kissed again it was all-consuming, firing spreading through their veins, stoking their desires to new levels. Steve matched the pace of his strokes on Peter’s cock to the roll and buck of his hips, goading him closer and closer to the edge. Peter’s fingers gripped and the fabric covering Steve’s shoulders, so desperate that he forgot to hold back, but the little pop-pop-pop of seams giving way was lost to them both.
“Steve… Steve fu-ung, so good,” Peter moaned loudly, “I’m gonna… I gotta…”
Steve leaned in closely, “You can cum whenever you want to, baby, but wouldn’t you rather cum on my cock?”
“Mmmmplease. Please, yes, fuck me, please,” Peter begged.
Steve pulled back, ready to flip Peter over, but then it hit him, “Please tell me you have lube.”
Peter laughed through short pants, “What self-respecting bottom doesn’t have lube on hand?”
Steve raised an eyebrow at him, “I thought you said you didn’t have any self-respect?”
Peter rolled his eyes, but laughed, he had said that, many times. While he retrieved a bottle of lube from his nightstand, Steve shrugged off his now damaged waistcoat. He caught Peter eyeing him while he removed his belt.
“Y’know… you are wearing way too many clothes”
Steve chuckled, “How about I get undressed, and you start preparing yourself for me?”
Peter blushed, “Y-yeah, I can do that.” He slid off his underwear, tossing them to the side. There was the easier way to prep himself, half propped up, reaching between his legs, but putting on a show was always more his style, so he returned to the end of the bed, head down, ass up. Normally he would put the lube on his fingers, try to warm it up a little bit first, but it was much harder in this position. Instead, he squeezed some just about his asshole, feeling it slide down a little, the cool oil a stark contrast against his own heat.
He started gently massaging the oil around his asshole, relaxing the muscles before sliding just one finger inside. He was going to go painstakingly slow in warming himself up, not that he wanted to wait any longer, but from what he felt earlier, Steve’s cock was going to wreck him, and he wanted to enjoy every single sinfully delicious inch. And that meant being good and properly worked up. When he was ready, he squeezed a little more lube out and slid two fingers inside himself.
Steve was intoxicated by the sight of Peter fingering his tight hole. It hadn’t taken him much time to undress, so he leaned against the wall, enjoying the show. Every moan out of Peter’s mouth made Steve’s dick twitch. Finally, he couldn’t hold back, starting to stroke himself leisurely.
Peter glanced over his shoulder. The vision of Steve, cock in hand, made him clench, and whimper.
“Can you fit another finger?” Steve asked, “Or do you need help?”
“Help,” Peter pleaded.
Steve was there in an instant, guiding Peter’s fingers out. The bottle of lube made a squelching sound as Steve squeezed a little onto his own fingers. Peter gasped and pushed back as Steve slid two fingers inside. Steve’s fingers were longer and thicker, reaching deeper inside than Peter ever could.
“Relax, baby, you’re doing so well,” Steve muttered, fucking his fingers into the younger man slowly and methodically. He twisted and scissored his fingers, slowly spreading him wide, forcing out desperate whimpers, “That’s it, baby. If you gotta take one more finger and then I’ll fuck you.”
“Mmmm, yessir, fuckin’ stretch me,” Peter slurred.
Steve did just that, sliding a third finger in, fucking into Peter more aggressively, pushing his moans loader, until Peter started begging for it. Finally, he pulled his fingers out. Peter whined and wiggled his ass at the loss. Steve chuckled, lubing his cock up to be extra careful.
He lined the tip of his cock up and pushed in, slowly and steadily until he was balls deep. Steve groaned, Peter squeezed him so beautifully. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around Peter’s throat, pulling him up until his back was pressed against Steve’s chest. Then his other hand settled just above Peter’s cock.
“Can you feel that?” He whispered in Peter’s ear while he ground up into him, “You feel how deep I am in you?”
Peter nodded frantically.
“Tsk tsk, be a good boy. Utilise tes mots, use your words.”
“Y-yes, I f-feel… fuck y-you’re so deep, feels so g-good, so f-fucking-ung” His words cut off when Steve slid out a little, thrusting harshly back in.
Steve kissed Peter just behind his ear and whispered, “Good boy,” before putting Peter back down. He settled into a steady rhythm, deep, almost brutal strokes. Peter, clutches uselessly at the sheets, fucking himself back against Steve’s cock with just as much desperation and fervor.
As he drew closer to cumming, Peter started saying everything that came to mind, his filter completely gone, “It’s so good, sir, so fucking good. Fuck just like that. So deep. Fuck, harder, harder, Steve…. Oh God… oh fuck…. Fuckfuckfuck, fuck me, yes, yes, pleeeease, fuck make me cum, please.”
Steve groaned, bottoming out again and again, “You wanna cum?”
“Yes, please.”
“Now?”
“Please.”
“No,” Steve pulled out suddenly, watching Peter’s abused hole clench around air, “I wanna see your face when you cum for me.”
Peter didn’t have time to question it as Stever flipped him over onto his back and slid back in, picking up right where he’d left off. In this new position Peter could, and did, reach for Steve’s shoulders, his nails digging in, leaving behind deep scratches.
This only spurred Steve on, “Come on, doll, you said you wanna cum, didn’t you.”
Peter nodded desperately, “Please.”
“Then touch yourself for me.”
“S-steve.”
Steve grunted, “Don’t get shy on me now. Stroke your cock for me.”
Peter complied quickly, stroking his cock in time with Steve’s thrusts.
“That’s it, good boy. So fucking good for me. So fucking tight. Stroke that cock for me, make yourself fucking cum. And when you cum, I’m gonna fuck myself as deep as I can and fill you with my cum,” Peter clenched around his cock, “Oh, you like that? You want me bottoming out in you, stuffing you so full your eyes roll back and you see fucking stars? You want that hot cum inside you?”
Steve’s words pushed Peter right off the edge, leaving the younger man trembling and clenching, his cum spilling across his own stomach and chest. True to his word, Steve fucked deeply into Peter a few more times, letting his twitching hole milk his cock before he bottomed out, filling Peter with every drop of cum.
Steve stilled his hips, kissing Peter slow and sweet. Eventually, though, he did have to pull out. After disappearing into the bathroom for a moment, he came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning Peter off. He did the best he could, but he could see where the lube was probably going to stain the comforter. Mission accomplished, he tossed the dirtied washcloth into the hamper. Peter clung to Steve when he picked him up. One hand on Peter, he used the other hand to pull the blankets back.
Laying Peter down against the pillows he asked, “Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go.”
Peter looked up at him with big vulnerable eyes, “I… I want you to stay. But… Only if you want to stay.”
Steve smiled and got into bed next to him, pulling the blankets over them both. Peter rolled over, cuddling in against Steve’s chest, and Steve wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist, “Get some sleep, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”